


Dishonored

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Multi, Politics, Sex for Favors, Sexual Slavery, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A war was waged and won for him and a royal life was once again his, but Kili was no more free than the days he was a slave serving his enemy.</p><p>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2516399">His Honor</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dishonored

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the sequel to His Honor. I didn’t plan to write it but… let’s just say that I like writing not nice!Thorin.
> 
> [His Honor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2516399) should be read first in order for this to make sense.

Kili didn’t belong here. Erebor, while welcoming, wasn’t home. He was an outsider here no matter how many people bowed to him and smiled at him. He knew almost no one here and no one cared to know him. He wasn’t a part of them and no one thought of making him a part of them, and why should they?

A war had been waged and won for Kili. Thranduil and his kingdom were annihilated. It had been the kind of war which would be told repeatedly for centuries, turning heroes into legends and villains into demons. It had been the sort of war Kili had always wanted to partake in. However, things hadn’t gone as well as in his fantasies. Kili had only fought alongside soldiers of Erebor briefly before being pulled to safety for his livelihood was the reason this war was fought. His role had been as a symbol, not a warrior, and he had been forced to sit back and watch as death claimed many and chaos enveloped the land because he had been disgraced. That wasn’t the official cause stated in Thorin’s declaration of war sent to Thranduil, of course. It was the destruction of Ered Luin and the suffering of its people which were mentioned in that parchment. It might be partially true, but Kili had been the trigger and he had also been present when Thorin clearly called his humiliation in the hands of Thranduil as the reason of starting the war. Safely hidden far from the battlefield, Kili had often wondered whether his honor was worth this battle. The wars he had waged in his dreams had been fought for prosperity and protection from mindless cruelty, honorable reasons, not his honor. However, he had had no power to end the war, even if it had been waged for him. He had only sat quietly as reports of the progress were read, mentioning divisions lost and lands conquered, implying but never explicitly stating the destruction caused. Kili had breathed a sigh of relief when Erebor emerged as the victor. He had stood beside Thorin as the King of Erebor gave him the honor of beheading the cruel king who had humiliated and enslaved him. Thranduil’s death by his hand satisfied Kili’s hatred, but the cost was high.

Once Kili had been avenged and Thorin had held a feast to celebrate that. Kili had remained by Thorin’s side when he announced that the threat, the thorn at Erebor’s side that was Mirkwood, was no more and that Ered Luin and all regions which used to be under Thranduil’s rule was now Thorin’s. Kili had nodded and expressed gratitude when he was made the representative of his ghost kingdom, a joke of a station for it held no more power than the guards who wordlessly surrounded Thorin constantly. But ‘no’ was no longer part of Kili’s vocabulary.

Thorin might have given him his title and freedom back, but Kili was no freer than when Thranduil had captured him. He had come to Erebor as a survivor. His role in starting the war was praised in official events, but it was cunningness and luck that Erebor drank to at night. He was the reason that Thorin needed to start a war immediately instead of anxiously doing the honorable thing and waited for Thranduil’s move. If he had even entertained the thought of being a hero prince (and he hadn’t), the polite indifference Thorin treated him to would have reminded him of his place.

In Erebor, Kili was given his own room and assigned attendants. Erebor was nothing like Ered Luin. Everything there was in a scale larger than life and lavishly decorated, even Kili’s humble room. Although Kili had been raised a prince, he was still staggered by the seemingly endless halls and territory. Curiosity took him to explore the kingdom but he kept his distance from people, only observing them from afar. The indoor training ground called to him in particular. In Ered Luin, training his fighting skills was his favorite activity. So many days he had spent sparring with his brother, winning and losing equally often, before returning to their proud parents. Now the memory made him shy away from the location. As much as his hands itched to hold swords and bows and arrows, his chest tightened at the reminder of those he loved who were with him no more. Now he went instead to the library, a place he used to loathe, where none dare to disturb him as he immersed himself in words which took him away from who and where he was in the present. It was an illusion. The letters transported him nowhere. Time couldn’t be reversed. His kingdom was gone and he was now here at the grace of a king he hardly knew.

Kili supposed he should be grateful that Thorin was kind. He kept his words and ensured that Kili had the luxury and comfort as a ward or at least a royal guest should. Every now and then, he came to see Kili and they would talk about what Kili heard and saw during his haunting in halls of Erebor and Kili would use the diplomacy skill he had been taught but had never thought he would utilize. Thorin was, at first glance, pleasant. But while he was kind, he was only a man. Often his eyes roamed Kili’s body with obvious intention, his memory of the horrible night he took Kili was obviously still clear in his mind. It made Kili’s skin crawl but he pretended he didn’t see the hungry gazes and continued talking about the weather, letting Thorin stew on his lust. They had both been victims to Thranduil’s cruel game but Thorin had also bent Kili over the table in front of his subjects and humiliated him. Kili knew it was a misunderstanding but it didn’t mean he so easily forgave and forgot it. He meant the withholding of consent as a way to punish but it was ineffectual. Thorin might never force his will on Kili, again staying true to his promise, but he wasn’t lacking in willing partners. Kili had witnessed women and men alike entering Thorin’s room at night and leaving in the morning and some obvious favorites even had the king visiting their rooms. Thorin might desire Kili, but he wasn’t so unique that Thorin was unable to find replacements.

People of Erebor spoke in whispers of the night Kili was given to Thorin, of Thorin’s public inspection of him, of his quiet submission, of Thorin’s loud announcement to claim him. Some speculated he had been used to service Thranduil’s soldiers or that Thranduil himself had made him submit before Thorin had (sometimes when Kili closed his eyes he could hear Thranduil’s soldiers’ laughs, the dead king’s sneer, and cold fingers and metals being used on him. He kept those nightmares at bay with memory of Thranduil’s head falling to the ash of his beloved forest, but they never truly disappeared, yet another chain keeping from being truly free). Desire and pity were familiar sights in the eyes of those who saw Kili. Kili had been a prince, was again a prince, but to others he would for now on be a slave. Not a war won in his name and his kingdom, not a palatial room of his own, not a king by his side could ever change that.

Kili was aware of his precarious position in Erebor. He was there only because of Thorin’s guilt and yet kings were changeable and very prone to boredom. Once he fell out of Thorin’s favor or Thorin thought that he had repented his mistake, Kili could be cast away and no one would care to object. Kili had no ally here and no function to play and Thorin was right, the world was an unfriendly place and while there was no warmth of home in Erebor, it was still a sanctuary. Perhaps even Kili’s only sanctuary. So, Kili came to Thorin one night, dropped to his knees and let Thorin teach him how to use his mouth. He was a fast learner, or so Thorin had told him, and he emerged from Thorin’s room much later that night with the king’s seed running down his legs, having secured his position.

Thorin wasn’t the gentlest lover, but then Kili had known that since the night of their meeting and thus didn’t complain. He would be sore and tender after Thorin unleashed his frustration on him or when Thorin felt particularly zealous, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear. Sometimes it was difficult when Thorin demonstrated that he was indeed capable of making Kili begged all night long but Kili knew his situation could be worse. Being on his knees to relieve Thorin’s tension or presenting himself on all fours to amuse Thorin or withholding his own release to satisfy Thorin’s wickedness was a small price to pay for his survival. Let people talk, at least Kili was alive.

Kili was under no illusion of affection. He was treated well and, indeed, received some priceless gifts to keep him pleased and his legs spread but there was distance between him and Thorin that neither cared to cross. They still talked once in a while, but always as companions, never as lovers. The intimacy Thorin had shown on the night he took Kili was nothing but a ploy to extract information from him and it was never shown except on rare nights behind closed doors. Thorin hadn’t ceased visiting others’ rooms, either, making it clear that he had no intention of committing himself to Kili, and Kili didn’t mind. The thought of being the king’s consort didn’t appeal to him not only because he wasn’t attracted to Thorin, but also because to do so meant giving up every last piece of him, an ultimate insult after the humiliation he received from the king. They were strangers just as they had been when they first met. But who wasn’t stranger to Kili nowadays?

This evening, as always, Kili sat near Thorin during dinner. As usual it was a lavish feast although only a handful of Thorin’s closest relatives ate with him. People at this table knew and grew up alongside each other, except for Kili who was here as a guest officially. Truthfully, Kili would rather eat alone rather than taking part in the reminder of what he had lost, what he would never be a part of ever again-not only privilege, but most importantly friends and family-but he played along with the charade, not wanting to displease Thorin and anyone who had even the slightest influence to make Thorin abandon Kili.

Finally, Thorin stood up, declaring that he had had his fill. He nodded to his kin and left the table. As he passed Kili, he clasped his shoulder. “Kili,” he said in a voice deeper than normal. Kili needn’t looked up to know there was desire in his eyes. He had heard this tone of voice often enough to know what it meant and what was expected of him. Thorin didn’t say more and left the room. No one said a word of the interaction, no one found it odd, and that made it worse.

Kili swallowed his protest and ignored the sickness at the pit of his stomach. He closed his heart, for there would be no use for it tonight other than as an instrument of torture. Kili stood up quietly, with as much dignity as he could muster, and went to Thorin’s room where he knew Thorin was waiting with thinning patience. His master had called.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s really the end. I never meant for them to be a happy couple, or even a couple at all, so there you go. Yes, I’m cruel. Visit me on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/) to say hi, talk about thorinkili, or buy what’s left of my soul with photo/gif sets/arts of thorinkili (seriously. I need some visual inspiration. Help).


End file.
